Moonlit Conversations
by Cinomarsh
Summary: Mrs. Lovett is tired of the deal she has with Mr. Todd, and can only see one way out.


**Hi again! Woo, yet another ST (which I don't own) one- shot! I'm sorry, the title sucks, I know, but please review anyways! **

She couldn't take it anymore. Being a villain. She'd had enough. The bodies, the lies, and the constant reminders that she could never truly have the man she loved. Mrs. Lovett had had enough. She knew what she had to do.

She had to kill him.

She could take Toby, abandon the shop, run away. The could move by the sea like she'd always wanted. But she knew Mr. Todd would never agree to come, and if she left him here alive, they'd be his next targets for revenge. She was sure of it.

It was far past midnight when Mrs. Lovett climbed the stairs to the barber shop. She tried to be as quiet as possible, despite the knowledge that if anything woke him, it would be the bell on the door. She could only hope that his sleep was as deep as any other trance he put himself into.

She stood on the landing for a moment, knowing that what she was about to do was immensely dangerous. But she had to do it. For Toby and for herself.

The baker took a deep breath and pushed open the door, cringing when she heard the bell's shrill chime. She stopped a few steps from the doorway, allowing the door to swing shut behind her as she took in the room.

The barber sat in his chair as if he was awake, his arms on the armrests, his feet firmly on the floor in front of him. The only indication of his slumber was his head, tilted slightly back and resting on the back of the chair. His body remained tense, though, giving the impression that he could jolt awake at any moment. Mrs. Lovett was thoroughly surprised that the bell hadn't woken him, but she disregarded the thought as she tiptoed over to the table at the back of the room.

The box that she was looking for sat on the table next to the picture of Lucy and baby Johanna. The picture made Mrs. Lovett's stomach twist with the memory of poor Lucy, a prostitute on the streets now, but she pushed it away. Not now. Not tonight. Not ever.

She gently opened the box to reveal six of Sweeney's seven razors, gleaming in the light from the window. The woman knew her accomplice kept one in his pocket at all times, making him a constant threat to her and her boy. She lifted one of the razors out of the box and opened it, staring at the blade for a minute. She knew she could've just brought a kitchen knife, but it felt wrong. If she was going to kill him, she had to use one of his razors. It just seemed more... Appropriate.

She turned and made her way to stand behind the chair. She knew she wouldn't be able to bear seeing his face when she did it.

She didn't want to kill him. She loved him, as much as she hated the fact. But she had to protect the only person in the world who _could_ ever love her. She couldn't go on like this forever. Perhaps death might even be a relief for Sweeney's tortured soul.

With this in mind, she reached her trembling arm around the chair and pressed the razor to his throat. She took a deep breath.

"Come now, pet. Is that really what you want to do?"

The sound of Mr. Todd's entirely calm voice made Mrs. Lovett jump, but not move the razor from it's place.

"Mr. T! You gave me a fright!" Was all she could think to say.

"Well, to be fair, you are holding my razor to my throat." He responded without a hint of concern.

The woman didn't say anything, but she didn't make a move to kill him either. She just stayed still until his voice came again.

"You won't kill me, Mrs. Lovett." He told her.

"And why not?" She asked, tightening her grip on her weapon ever so slightly.

"Because you love me." He stated simply, as if he were pointing out a falling leaf or a crack in a wall.

She'd never heard him say it before. She took a moment before responding.

"You ignore me."

"Hardly a reason to kill someone."

"You're one to talk."

The barber gave a slight chuckle, a deep sound that the baker hadn't heard in years.

"I need to leave here." She told him, her hands still shaky.

"No you don't."

"You see?" She asked, her voice cracking involuntarily. "I knew you wouldn't let us leave!"

"I don't care if you leave, and I certainly don't care about the boy. But you do."

"Of course I care! I care about him like a son-"

"No, not the boy. You'd care if you left. You wouldn't be able to stand it." He said, a surprising confidence flooding his words. He never listened to a word she said but he acted as though he knew her inside out.

"What do you mean?" She asked, trying to sound intimidating and failing miserably.

"This is your life, Mrs. Lovett. All of it. And you love it, no matter what you tell yourself."

This made her think for a moment. She did love having all the customers, having the opportunity to be close to Sweeney, London itself. But she could live without all that... Couldn't she?

"Even the secrets. You've never minded getting your hands dirty. You're just afraid." Mr. Todd continued.

"Afraid of what?" Mrs. Lovett demanded immediately.

"Of everything going wrong. But the question you have to ask is wether or not killing me would be worth it." He said. Every word he said seemed as though he'd already thought them through. Maybe he knew this would happen someday.

She thought it over for a minute. She knew he was right. This was her life, and for the time being, she didn't want it to change. But wouldn't it be better for all involved if she just killed the demon barber of fleet street now? Toby would be safe and Countless innocent people's lives would be saved. But she knew she'd never much cared about the general public, and she could keep Toby safe here. Right now, she needed this man alive.

She lowered her arm and stood up straight, walking around the chair to see the man's face.

He looked older than he did in the daytime. The dark circles under his eyes were more noticeable, the lines in his skin deeper. His fathomless eyes met hers for the first time in months.

She reached out to give him the razor back, which he took and put in his pocket, never breaking eye contact. They stayed like that for what felt like hours before the man spoke.

"You and I started this." He told her. "There's no backing out now."

She nodded, and without another word, stood and left to go to bed.


End file.
